The Laughingstock

In the back of his mind, he hopes it’s truly easier to laugh at another’s misfortune than to empathise or take pity, because if it isn’t then they would have proved him wrong – that they’re the only people who matter; who are important, so who would care if they laughed at him all the way to his grave?

But even as he thinks (because that’s the only thing he can do now), even if on good days it infuriates him and on bad days makes him numb with apathy, he knows there’s a lesson in the looks he’s being thrown and the life he’s been given – one that will take him longer than a lifetime to learn or understand, but it’s there.

He thinks it’s the most bizarre synonym for “safety” and “peace”, but he holds on anyway, and pray that his spirit doesn’t break before his body does.